They’re laughing too loud over here at school,
And I can’t help but wonder if it’s pointed at me.
My plain pink tee and thrift store jeans
Score no points on their checklist marked “cool”.

He says a word that makes me shut down.
It’s vile and rough and I don’t understand.
Why choose to say something that way?
I fix my eyes on my papers scattered round.

Cinnamon,
Cardamom,
Allspice,
And Cloves
The smells are divine
As everyone knows
Fall is upon us,
This season is here
To share in the joy
With family near
Remember the good times
The things that you have
Be thankful for treasures
Your mom and your dad
What time here is left us
We must make the best
Live days to the fullest
Live happy and blest

Let me show you my garden, so you may understand why I love it as much as I do.
Here, on this ornate bench beneath the cascade of Rose vines, my heart first opened up to love. The hand that turned back the petals and revealed the heart was the hand that put this ring on my finger.
Here, under the boughs of these cherry blossoms, I learnt that this Love must die a young death.
'Twas walking between the rows of gardenias here that my broken heart was healed.

Again I'm confus'd, bewilder'd and torn;
I feel like a Sampson shaven and shorn.
Betrayed by my fears and wond'ring "What next?"
I'm taken, again, right back to this text;
"...My peace give I unto you," Jesus said,
"...Not as this world gives," His men Spirit-led.
They were radical and strange yet trusting,
Whereas I'm radic'lly strange, and doubting.
"...Faith like a mustard seed..." can move mountains;
Yet my shoulders carry the mountainous plains.
"My yoke is easy and my burden light,"

Now I ponder and wonder why
A man thinks best to take his life
Thinks to end his conscience' strife
His hopeless fingers grip the knife

There is no love to make him thrive
It hurts to breath; to be alive
He's lost his faith, he's lost his drive
It is not worth the pain to strive

It's become a matter of time
Because of this he starts the climb
From conscience to justify crime
But then he hears a quiet rhyme

It’s not fair
You were too young
too gentle
too kind.

It’s not fair
I won’t get to celebrate
your birthday
a few days before mine.

It’s not fair
We were the same age
yet I will see
a spouse, children
you will not.

It’s not fair
You left behind
two parents
lost in grief.

It’s not fair
No one will see
the sparkle in your eyes
or your charming smile
anymore.

The path once so bright
Now hidden from sight
Is not to be seen
Behind its own screen
I crave the white light
Luminescent sight
I reach out my hand
"Right now!" I demand
And then I fall down
I scrape myself brown
And trust I do not
This can't be my lot
This dreary old way
Upon which I lay
Not fit for my feet
No, not even meet
I thought myself good
But there as I stood
I fell down again
Broken in my pain
I cried out in fear
"Lord why am I here?!"

Sweet little life inside of mine
I pray to God your light will shine
I pray your days be fill'd with grace
And that you'll look upon His face
I pray His love you'll magnify
As you lift up His name on high
And sing a song of endless praise
May He alone fill up your days

Days of pain count as days of grace
Days of joy can do an about-face
If we do not watch ourselves and learn
Our strength is not something that you earn
It's given to us, for fear to flee
In my days of pain I've come to see
That a weak body can hold much strength
If only you'll look above, at length
You'll find a day of grace for you
If you trust His word, holy and true
You'll know the blessing of silent tears
Given in moments of pain and fears
There are worse stories; you can compare

Author's Note: I wanted to celebrate Arthur and Damaris's engagement by writing a special poem for them. Arthur and Damaris, we may not know each other extremely well, but as fellow APer's, I consider you part of my extended family (and you both are my brother and sister in Christ!). I wish you both love, joy, and blessings, now and forever! This one is for you:

Sometimes the right things just fall into place,
and you find a love that fills up a space,
inside of your heart where you didn’t know,
that any more love could possibly go.